


(I Will Walk) 500 Miles

by Emotionalsorbet



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Kiss, Hiking, M/M, Roomates, the outdoors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:39:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emotionalsorbet/pseuds/Emotionalsorbet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truth is, Tony Stark was never made to hike mountains, but boy, did he sure wish he had the guts to explain that fact to Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I Will Walk) 500 Miles

His breaths are shortened with every step he takes, decreasing the function rate of his lungs by at least an additional twenty five percent. There's an unbearable pain in his lower back, and a glorious numbness in his feet to accompany it. The whole trip is a disaster, really. Steve is always fifty feet ahead of him, climbing passed trees like its his fucking job, and who is Tony to say that he needs a break? Sure, he never quite signed up for this amount of physical exertion, but it's not as if he can just turn around and drag his guide back to the bottom. After all, they were far too high to even consider giving up now.

"Almost there," Steve shouts, his voice piercing over the obnoxious ringing in Tony's ears. "You alright, Stark?"

Tony huffs, moving to his far right in order to lean momentarily on a nearby boulder. "Depends, what do you mean by ' _almost_ '?" He's sweating profusely, swiping beads that roll down his forehead and catching the ones centered on his chest with the fabric of his blue baseball shirt. Had Steve mentioned the temperature rising to such extremes?

"Uh.." He stops in his tracks, hands on his hips and eyes squinting to look toward the top of the monstrous landform he takes pleasure in climbing. "Quite honestly, I don't really have an exact distance for you, but the good news is that I know for fact that we'll be there in five--that is, if you can keep up the pace for that long."

"Peachy," Tony cringes, making a face at the comment. The reasoning behind his being dragged here is lost to him--any other individual (who were a great deal more fit for this exercise than himself) could have ridden shot gun just as easily. Though, and in reality, the only blame is on his own shoulders, because Bucky Barnes is more than slightly infamous for keeping a majority of vital details hidden.

" _Great guy_ ," he had said, arm around Tony's shoulders while flashing a killer smile. "You'll love him. He's a phenomenal cook, and I've practically known him forever. All around good guy--you know, polite, high in spirits, all that great stuff."

Tony raised an eyebrow at the statement, but nonetheless agreed, hoping for Bucky's renowned twisting of statements to have been absent. Though, and in opening the door to his apartment at an ungodly hour in the morning subsequent, he wasn't too certain of his desires being granted.

"Hi!" The door had only been half opened when the voice rang through, corresponding quite well to the person standing before him. As promised, he was bubbly. And inexplicably loud.

As they near the end of the trail, Tony runs back over the description provided to him, desperately trying to uncover the specific statement that had steered him in the wrong direction of picking a suitable roommate. It didn't make sense--no terrible characteristics were listed, or had even been discovered upon their initial meetings. But then it hits him.

 _High_ in spirits.

And _Christ_ , Tony thinks, because the goddamn guy has done it again. "Your pal Bucky is a real wise ass, you know that?"

Steve laughs, pushing through a cluster of branches. "Sounds like you've finally met the guy."

It's preposterous to think that such a slip of words could have brought him out into the wilderness when he himself would never venture out into it on his own. However, and despite the lack of preference toward the outdoor world, he _had_ been the one to agree to take the trip. Of course, Steve bargained quite a few times in order to actually get him out of the apartment, but in the end, they both knew who won.

"Here--" Steve smiles at him, eyes crinkling and head dropping to look at the floor for a single moment. Tony accepts the hand offered to him, moving to lie under the blondes gaze as soon as he steps onto the rocks of their final destination. "You're nuts," he says, but Steve doesn't hear him, for he's already setting up to take the first few pictures of the mountains before the lens.

The guy is absolutely phenomenal on these types of paths--he's nearly never out of breath, and when the trail peaks, he's always bounding to get a thousand photographs of the view. Overall the characteristic doesn't surprise him: they've been living together for three weeks, the two of them, granting Tony with a chance to understand the guys passion for framed memories, but not to actually see any of his work. So it's a new experience when the initial click of the camera sounds from his far left.

"Let me ask you something," Tony says, fumbling to push himself into a standing position. He waits for Steve to hum in affirmation prior to pressing forward. "You drag yourself all the way to the top of the closest landforms you can find, just to get a clean shot of something you can google on the internet?"

"Well, yeah, I guess." There's a moment then, laced in silence and draped a train of new thought. Steve scrunches his nose, moving to strap the camera between his shoulders. "I mean--if you're looking at it that way, coming out here is pointless. But-- _alright_. When you're surfing the internet, you're thinking. You're minds reeling with an idea of what you want, and what you're going to do with the image once you get it. The item isn't personal, either. For some, that might be a problem, but I can't confirm that this for everyone. Speaking on my own behalf, I can assure you that it is."

Tony frowns. With a step toward the edge of the land they're standing on, it's clear to see that an obscene amount of danger isn't more than a breath away. He's never quite had a thing for heights, or even nature for that matter, but Steve perceives the world differently than he does. His heart doesn't pound obnoxiously at his rib cage when running, and he doesn't seem to lose any feeling in his extremities when faced with an anxiety filled situation. The perspective noticeably varies from any other Tony has gained insight of during his experience. It's new--it's intriguing.

"Clarify that a bit for me, will you?"

Steve eyes him curiously, flickering his focus over to the nearby scenery. "Stand by the uprooted tree--the small one. Oh, and don't face me."

"You're not planning some sick homicide, are you Rogers? I swear I'll haunt Barnes' ass if I go because of someone he suggested I share a residence with." He's only half-joking.

"No. I'm not moving an inch--I want _you_ to see something. Spread your arms, yeah?--almost like wings."

"You say wings, but yet I feel like a shipwrecked Rose."

"Cute," Steve bites, fingertips searching for the clip of his carry on. "Trust me on this one. Eyes closed, arms up. No buts."

At first, Tony doesn't get it, and really, all he wants is a hot shower and a twenty four hour long nap. His limbs are aching terribly, but yet he can't quite sense the pain. A minute passes while he's stranded at the edge, filled with nothing other than the sounds of a few insects rustling through the leaves around him. He's skeptical of the idea of emptying his mental agenda, because, _sure_ , Steve can do it no problem, though, and in contrast to Tony himself, he isn't one to fret over details countless times a day. Nevertheless, an attempt is constructed out of pure consideration. The brief period of respite is nice, a peaceful sanctuary of time he doesn't have to put effort into creating.

Steve's voice pulls him from it, "Up here, you don't have to think. It's why I head out to places like this. The view is astounding, too. So really, one visit to a nature filled location is a win-win." He shrugs, "Doesn't really have to be your thing in order to give you the slightest bit of enjoyment."

"No," Tony's voice fades as he follows the clouds over the horizon, "it doesn't."

-

Tony's half asleep the next time they have a full conversation that day, eyes fluttering shut every two minutes and reopening every three. His palm is pressed flat against his cheek, knocking his glasses farther toward his forehead as opposed to the bridge of his nose.

"It's nearly one in the morning, why don't you head to bed?" Steve's at the table, toying with the quality if the pictures he took earlier in the day. So far, he doesn't appear to be showing signs of exhaustion.

However, and in contrast to this behavior, Tony's yawning at an extreme volume. "I'll wait, and besides, you promised to show me the final product."

He types something, "Um, yeah, here. I've finished a pretty decent amount of them."

Tony pads over to him slowly, creating small creaks in the floorboards under the weight of his bare feet. Steve clicks on an arrow, and suddenly an array of sights are splayed across the screen. A few are of the scenery he recalls from the trip, but most of them belong to previous dates, exhibiting waters and plants he's never seen come to face.

Each of the hikes are explained to him, and as they move down on the list of images, Steve forgets about the last few he had taken. Tony catches sight of them before anyone can exit them. He places his hand on Steve's wrist, halting him long enough to take a second to assure himself of the authenticity of the photographs.

"I, um," Steve falters," you're always staring off at something. Biting your nails or drumming your fingers against the arm of the sofa. I just--it was different today, when I took you through the mountain. You weren't..."

"Right," Tony's heart is picking up again, sending a paradox of hot and cold throughout his veins. His legs are flushed of feeling, but his grip on Steve hasn't disappeared, consenting him with an opportunity to feel the faint movement he constructs to turn the chair. He's staring up at the brunette above him now, searching.

Carefully, he slides his arm from the touch, daring only to brush against Tony's knuckles. When Tony faces him, he wraps his fingers around Tony's, tugging lightly until he's practically in Steve's lap. "Is this--?"

"Yeah." Tony nods, reaching up with shaking hands. Steve does the same, pulling them close enough to move as one, breaths falling even and lips dancing against one another's.


End file.
